


Quick Reflexes

by dramady, jeck



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is doing his part to prepare John for the future. And its every eventuality.<br/>A/N: Slash; Uncle-cest; Plot before porn. But still, porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quick Reflexes

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of fictional individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the fictional people whose names are used without permission.

  
Derek was stealthy. Yes, he was. He wasn't one of the future's best soldiers for nothing. He very quietly padded in the room, closing the door and locking it with nary a sound of a click. With a smirk he bent down over the bed, over the sleeping form that was almost completely covered in a blanket, only the face and the disheveled hair peeking out. _So pretty even asleep_, he thought. Too bad Derek had to do this...

He slapped his hand over John's mouth and watched those eyes fly wide open and then pretty green ones looked right back at him. "You need to stay alert even if you're asleep. Icould've been a T-800 and killed you." He said this in a low quiet voice, rumbling right by John's ear.

Holy _CRAP_. For a second, John thought he was going to barf up his heart. _GOD_. Breathing noisily through his nose, he stared, his body shivering with adrenaline that had been poured into his system, eyes wide. "You're not a T-800," he tried to say, but it came out all muffled-sounded and breathless because he'd had the _crap_ scared out of him and Derek's hand over his mouth, making it hard to breathe. Fucking Derek.

He let go his hand and rolled to lay beside John with a chuckle. "Too easy. We have to change that." He said this while propping his head on his hand, looking down at John while his other hand began to caress down his chest, lower, lower, fingers curling the hem of his shirt and the Derek was pulling it up, his warm palm on John's even warmer belly. "You have to keep vigilant." And just how vigilant? With a move that's almost lightning fast, Derek's hand left John's chest, shirt bunched up now and then he cupped John's sweat-pants clad cock. "Always anticipate." Derek smirked as his hand squeezed John.

One embarrassing string of noises later, John stared at Derek with still-wide eyes, breath coming out in panted bursts. Whenever Derek did that, it always caught him off-guard, still. Rough hands, rough touch, that he was learning to crave. He could feel himself get hard under the hand and in the darkness, his cheeks heated. "Will a T-800 do this?" He had to ask, hips rocking just slightly. "Derek?" His own hands werefisted in the sheets. God.

"No." Derek looked him in the eye and smirked. "But a T-triple-eight might." He chuckled again. Which he knew would throw John off. He rarely smiled, rarely laughed and when he did, it came out a chuckle that was a bit eerie and evil. Or so his men told him. Derek though, kept rubbing, teasing, then his hand slipped under those pants, touching hot hard skin and wrapping his hand around it. "Tell me what you'd do,hmm? If a T-800 or a T-triple-eight got in the house?" Yeah. Concentrate, Connor.

Connor couldn't. He... couldn't. He was _sixteen_. And this was unfair. Really fucking unfair. But. That didn't mean that John was without tricks. No, he had one. One. He moaned. He threw his head back, bit his lip, and moaned. Not like he was faking it, because he wasn't. Because he'd early on discovered that he ... he had no control over his reactions when Derek touched him.

But the moan. He knew the moan would cause Derek to shudder and lean in and when he did that, John dug his heel into the bed and shoved with all his might and in that brief moment, he had the upper hand. Still panting, aching for release, he stared down at his uncle as he straddled him. "I'd do that," he gasped.

Derek only smirked. Yeah.

* * *

The sound of the shower he could hear from right outside the door. The tin chick was gone and Sarah was, too. It was only Derek and John in the house. Perfect.

He turned the knob. It was locked. Derek smirked because he'd noticed that John had been locking his door a lot lately. What could he possibly be doing in the shower? Derek picked the lock, quietly he opened it and sneaked in, steam all over the air, John a mere shadow he could see from the floral shower curtain. There was humming. Could John be--singing? Derek bet a no.

John bit his lip as his grip tightened. It felt like he was horny all the time these days. All the time. He leaned against the wall of the shower as his knees started to give a little. "Oh, god," he whispered, unmindful that he was being watched.

It was a slow process of stripping his shirt and pants and boxers without making much of a sound. But hearing the soft moaning coming from John, Derek would assume that the boy would be too busy with his jerking off to notice there was someone else now in the room. He stood in front of the shower curtain, poised to pull it open and ready to catch John in case he fell back and slipped. Wouldn't want the savior of mankind to conk his head on the shower now would he? He pulled the curtain open and quickly. "Bang! You're dead." He yelled.

"Holy crap!" John did indeed stagger, eyes wide with surprise. "Derek! You asshole!" Grasping at whatever he could find to keep himself upright, he wrapped his hand around Derek's forearm. That's when he noticed his uncle was pretty naked and as he got his footing, he stared, mostly down at Derek's crotch. God. "That's not funny!" He finally managed. "Not funny at all." And still, his cock was hard, twitching at what he saw.

"Hmm. Better not let your Mom hear you say that. She'd wash your mouth out." Heh. Derek would do the same but he'd use his cock. God. That just made him hard. "I could've been Sarkissian, you know? With a gun." He made a gun with his finger and pretended to shoot at John right as he was stepping into the shower, pushing at John so he could get under the spray. "Constant vigilance, Connor." They were so close that Derek could feel John's breath against his skin.

And John could feel the heat of Derek's stronger, taller body. He could see the tattoos that littered his skin. And he wanted, he found, to lick them, to trace them with his tongue. It was a dirty thought, and when his cock twitched, it did so against Derek's thigh. And when it did that, John flushed, filled with shame combined with heightening arousal.

"Did Harry Potter teach you nothing?" He looked down at the boy and could see the flush to his cheeks. It was pretty. Derek pushed the hair away from John's face while spewing water from the shower and then he reached for John, pulling him under the water, too, pressed to his chest. "The snake doesn't bite, you know?" He pointed to his arm.

Oh, god. John shuddered then, and hard and after flicking his gaze up to Derek's face, he leaned in and tasted the skin with the water running down it. He couldn't help it. His eyes closed and his grip on Derek's wrist tightened. When he felt Derek shiver, just a little, well...

This was all about training. Wasn't that always what it came down to? Wasn't that what Derek was already telling him? John raised an arm, pressing it against Derek's throat. So he stood to his full height. "No," he rasped. "But I might."

Derek grinned and slowly, then he nodded, much as he could with that arm pressing against his throat. This was, honestly, very arousing that his cock grew harder. "Good move." Pride shone in his eyes.

John grinned as he stepped back.

* * *

The computer program he was trying to get through was incredibly complex and John was hunched over the screen, frowning intently. From the corner of his eye, though, he saw Derek come in. He was getting better. So he just said, softly, "hey."

Derek grinned. It was a bit on the 'something's up' side. But who cared? John, whenever he was around, seemed to be more on his toes now. Which was good. Exactly the point of these exercises. "Whatcha doin'?" Derek was standing over him, crouching down and looking over John's shoulder. The boy smelled like the sun and something else Derek still couldn't place. He put a hand heavily on John's shoulder. "You hacking the porn sites again?"

John snorted. "No. I'm still working on the organization of the files we got. It's a program I haven't seen before. Dual layers of encryption. I leave the porn to you." The half-smile stayed on his face as he typed in another line of code. "Where's mom and Cameron?"

"Kitchen." Derek slid his hand from John's shoulder and down his sides, on his lap, squeezing a thigh. "Think you can concentrate on that file right there?" With his free hand he pointed at one of the files on the screen. "Let's see how long that takes you to decrypt,hmm?" The hand on John's thigh slowly made it's way between John's legs. Yeah. _Very_ slowly.

His breath catching in his chest, John swallowed hard. But it was a test. Another one of Derek's stupid tests. So he focused, took a deep breath and worked and cracking and opening the file, typing in the codes that worked only half the time. Even through his jeans, he thought he could feel the heat of his uncle's hand so he ground his teeth together. He could be stubborn too.

Derek rubbed, palm warm as he cupped John between the legs, his eyes on that profile but attention on the open door, ear turned toward it. He had a smirk on soon as he saw those pretty eyes narrow, those lips press together, John concentrating. Very good. Now, let's make it harder (Ha! Pun!) shall we? "You wanna know what I wanna do to you,hmm ? I want to bend you over your computer there and push your pants down. Fuck you in the ass so hard you won't be able to sit right for days." This he said in his low grated voice, right by John's ear, his warm breath blowing the long hair on his cheek.

For a long moment, John's whole body went still, except for his hammering heart and the erection that suddenly was an issue below. Then he felt the flush creep up, prickling over his skin. Oh, god, Derek was such a _bastard_. Then, using all the will he had, he started typing again, slowly, because to screw up meant to backtrack and to backtrack would mean Derek won. "I think," John said, as slowly as he could through clenched teeth. "That if you did as much as you talked about, you wouldn't have the free time to harass me when I'm trying to change the future."

Derek continued to rub and then he pressed the heel of his hand on that now hard bulge between John's legs. He pushed down, his chest on John's back, his shoulder, his face right next to John's from behind, his breath blew against the young man's cheek. "Not harassing you. I'm changing the future with you." His fingers curled around the hard shaft, through the denim of John's pants and he squeezed. "Savior of the human race needs to learn to concentrate through the worst possible situations..." At this Derek grinned, lips touching the shell of John's ear. "Or any kind of," another squeeze, "situation."

"S-sex-xual torture? In the future? Are you s-sure that's n-not just y-you?" John's breath hitched and he closed his eyes for a second, trying to concentrate as best he could, which wasn't very good at all, when all he wanted was Derek's rough hand wrapped around him. Or better yet, that awful mouth. _Holy crap_. He twitched, and hard, at that idea, before he forced his eyes open. One more. One more line of code. If he could just--

"_Yes_." The file started spilling out pictures and text in a cascade of information. "Holy crap!" John turned, nearly bashing Derek in the nose. "Derek--"

"Fuck!" His eyes widened, staring at the screen. "Sarkissian." It was said in a hiss. "You did good. Now call your mother."

* * *

It was a long day spent all over the city trying to find a trace of that woman in one of the pictures John unearthed. A long ass day. Derek plopped on the sofa, one foot up on the table and his head leaning back on the seat, expelling a long breath. They had turned up nothing. Nothing. Maybe tomorrow. Another day, another mission and fuck he was tired. He shut his eyes, pulling his arm over them and then Derek let out another long breath.

"Well, that was a worthless day," John said, flopping down next to Derek, into the couch, boots falling with a clunk onto the table as he ran a hand through his hair. "Sometimes, it feels like we're getting nowhere." Turning his head, he looked over at his uncle. Sarah was in the shower and Cameron was in the dining room watching out the windows. As tired as he was-- and he was tired-- he lifted up a hand to rest it on Derek's thigh.

The arm over his eyes he pulled back, peeking just as a brow rose, flicking first to that hand on his thigh and then John's face. "We're getting somewhere." Derek said implicitly. "If you hadn't cracked that file open, we wouldn't have known. That's heading somewhere, okay?" That hand on his thigh was distracting. Very. It was warm even through his jeans and Derek's hand was itching to grab on to John and haul him-- well, somewhere preferably dark and soundproof. Fuck. Maybe he shivered a bit. Maybe. He did that sometimes with John. Much as the boy thought it was training for him? It was also a way for Derek to keep on his toes as well. And that hand now sliding up his thigh? A very good way of keeping him on said toes.

John wasn't sure if it was him that shivered, or Derek. But he was watching his hand on his uncle's thigh and thinking about how rough the denim felt under his hand. When he reached the apex of Derek's thigh, hemight've gasped some. It was clear he was aroused and John could feel his mouth water. When his hand curved around the bulge, he squeezed.

Just as the door to the bathroom opened and John jumped to his feet, running a hand through his hair. "I'll... be in my room," he muttered and walked away as quickly as he could.

Derek had to commend John. No. Really. Should he be surprised the younger man left in haste when he heard the bathroom door open? Of course not. And his reaction time, Derek noticed, was definitely improving. Johnmust've had his hand off Derek and standing a half a second after the door knob creaked. Awesome.

"Get some sleep," Sarah said, hair dripping wet down her shoulders. "We leave at dawn."

* * *

The room was dark, close. The air was hot, it felt moist. There was sweat beading at John's hairline and the wall was rough, exposed brick; it was sharp under his palm. He rested his cheek against his hand to keep from getting scratches that would be too hard to explain. His chest hurt as he tried to breathe. His jeans were around his ankles and kept his legs from being as far apart as he wanted. It was so _quiet_, aside from their twinned labored breathing. Reaching back with his other hand, he felt a hip, sharp and angular under his grip. "Please," he whispered hoarsely. "Derek. Please."

"Shh..." Derek whispered against John's sweat damp hair, nuzzling right by his ear, lips touching his temple. "Shh..." He repeated, "Quiet, remember?" Biting back his own groan, Derek thrust in deeper, cock dragging slow, out and then back in. Slow. John felt good. So fucking hot. So fucking tight. Derek could easily lose control, if he was one to quickly lose it. Lucky for them both, he wasn't that kind of person.

They needed to be silent, Sarah was in the other room. Derek reminded John yet again. "Quiet, okay?"

And, with measured movements, hands digging fingers on John's hips, he quickened his thrust but moved deliberately so that much as he wanted to, they do not slap skin on skin. "Shhhh..." Derek murmured again while one arm snaked around John, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking, counter to his thrust.

The hand around him was _perfect_, calloused and rough just like he knew it'd be, and John dug his teeth into his lower lip to keep from shouting. This wasn't a test, not anymore, not really. This was about need, desire, _connection_, at least for John. It was about losing his virginity and feeling like he _belonged_ somewhere, somehow, if only for a moment. And it was about pleasure eating his _brain_. He wanted to beg again, for more, for Derek not to stop. Each thrust in felt like he was being invaded, broken in half each time Derek pushed in and patched back together each time he pulled back out.

When Derek's hand tightened around him, John couldn't help it; he whimpered and bucked, feeling the burn of the brick as he tried to get a grip, failing at that as he pushed back. "Oh, god."

The hand in a vice on John's hip released and then Derek cupped his cheek, tilting his face while turning his and it didn't matter suddenly that the angle was awkward, that both of them were straining their necks. A smirk from Derek and then he shushed him again. "Quiet..." And he said that by dragging that word out, voice low, a whisper. "Shh..." Then he kissed him.

This wasn't a lesson, no. This? This was reward. Although there was still a matter of John learning to be more quiet. That, well, came with the territory. Derek was amazed at the young man's resilience, his strength, his intelligence. All proving to him that, yes, this was the same John of the future that could save the world. But none of that seemed to matter at this moment. This specific moment. Because this one, now, what they were sharing was beyond the stupid tests and lessons Derek enforced. Now was about being human. Being together. Connecting. _Feeling_. Things that could easily disappear when fighting with machines. Things that made them flesh and blood; more than metal and computer chips. Things that made them _alive_.

As John whimpered against his mouth, Derek was very quickly losing control. His thrusts were becoming erratic as the pleasure mounted, and instead of biting back the groan, he kissed John more fervently, lips locked, tongues tangling, moving with a desperation as Derek neared release. The kiss muffled the moans, the grunts, the noises they otherwise would have made, all of it overpowered by something as simple as a kiss.

When John came, his body bucked and shuddered and for a spiraling and dizzy moment, he couldn't breathe and it felt like his heart stopped. Even as his cock jerked in Derek's grip, he worried idly that he was going to pass out, fall down, do something he couldn't control as he fell back against his uncle.

The clench was overwhelming that it pulled Derek's orgasm from him, starting from the base of his spine, it spiraled uncontrollably until he was spilling deep inside John. He didn't release the kiss, moans swallowed up, muffled with Derek very much aware of how quiet they needed to be. It was when he stopped pulsing that he pulled away, breathing heavily, hand still cradling John's cheek, smiling a more sincere smile. One that even reached his eyes.

All John could do was stare back. Vaguely, he realized that he was only partially grasping the ramifications of what they'd done. Of what it meant. He felt the ache and he felt the need that hadn't been dampened by what they'd just done. Finally, in a whisper, he asked, "how'd I do?"

"Passed." Derek grinned. "With flying colors." He pulled out with a hiss but wrapped an arm around John, pulling him flush to his chest so that the younger man wouldn't fall. "Next week." He breathed in a rough and grated voice right by John's ear. "Round two."  



End file.
